


The Secret

by Attenia



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2020-04-23 00:32:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19140001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Attenia/pseuds/Attenia
Summary: Legolas hasn't seen Aragorn in months, and misses him dearly. After trying for weeks to cheer up his son, Thranduil sends for Aragorn and demands to know the secret to keeping the Legolas happy. Trigger warnings for self-harm.





	The Secret

Thranduil   
Thranduil frowned as he watched Legolas make shot after shot. As always, his son’s aim was perfect. That wasn’t what was bothering him.  
Legolas still looked miserable. Archery practice had never failed to cheer him up before, but not today. The guard who he’d charged with lifting his son’s mood kept glancing anxiously toward Thranduil’s study, clearly nervous that the king would react badly to his orders not being followed.  
The king sighed. No, Avler was doing the best he could – making a valiant effort to joke with Legolas or even simply to get him to smile. A couple of hours later, Avler knocked on his door. The guard’s shoulders were slumped, and he went to his knees before the king.  
“I am sorry, hir nin. I tried, but Legolas was not cheered by the practice or the company.”  
“I could see that. Worry not, Avler, it is not your fault. Tomorrow, take a ride with him out to that lake he likes swimming in, maybe that will lift his spirits.”  
While Legolas was out the next day, Thranduil had the entire palace running around, preparing. By the time the prince returned – still just as downcast as he had been that morning, despite spending the day doing what was supposed to be one of his favorite things – his chambers had been transformed.   
Legolas started as he walked in, apparently thinking he’d come to the wrong room. Thranduil was sitting at his son’s desk, waiting.   
“Ada? What happened in here?”  
“I thought you would appreciate some of your favorite flowers in here. I had the gardeners put them in pots, so that they can grow into their own bushes. They’ll have to be moved to the garden eventually, but for now, I am hoping they bring a song to your heart, ion nin.”  
Legolas smiled, but the smile looked forced. “Thank you, Ada. That’s very kind of you.”  
“Tell me what I can do,” Thranduil asked, somewhat desperately.   
“What do you mean?”  
“I know you miss Estel, and I know it has been longer than usual since his last visit. He will come as soon as he can, I am sure, but I hate seeing you so unhappy in the meantime. How can I help?”  
Again, Legolas gave him a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I am fine, Ada, truly.”  
Thranduil just shook his head. He’d find a way to ease his son’s sadness, no matter what it took.   
Over the next few weeks, he threw a ball in Legolas’ honor, had the cooks prepare all of his favorite meals, took his son on picnics, gave him increasingly extravagant gifts, had an elaborate flet made in the tree the prince spent most afternoons in, hosted an archery tournament that Legolas of course won, and hired a team of musicians to serenade him with his favorite songs at each meal.  
None of it helped. Legolas thanked him graciously for his efforts, but remained thoroughly downcast.  
Avler looked almost as miserable as the prince when Thranduil called him in yet again. “Avler, I have a job for you.”  
“Yes, hir nin.” It was clear from his expression that Avler thought the attempts at cheering Legolas up were doomed, but he would follow his king’s orders regardless. “I want you to ride for Imladris and fetch Estel Elrondion. I don’t care how you do it – knock him out and tie him to your horse if you must – but you get him here, and you get him here right now.”  
At this, Avler finally smiled. “I will do as you say, my king.”  
Thranduil expected it to take at least two weeks for Avler to return, but barely three days later, Elrond’s youngest son was deposited in front of him.   
“Hir nin? What is it? I was heading to the palace to visit Legolas when Avler ran into me and told me to make all haste. What is wrong?”  
Thranduil clenched his hands, resisting the temptation to place them around Estel’s throat. “What’s wrong? What’s wrong! What is wrong, Elrondion, is that it has been five months since your best friend has seen you. Do you realize how miserable he’s been? Do you even care?”  
“Of course I care! Why do you think I’m here? Ada was trying to cheer me up for weeks before he eventually gave up and sent me to Greenwood.”  
“You usually visit every two or three months. Why did you wait so long?”  
“Things were crazy at Imladris, and Ada needed me. I do have duties there, you know. Perhaps if you’d let Legolas leave his responsibilities at home every now and then, it wouldn’t be so long between our meetings.”  
Thranduil suddenly felt terrible. Estel was right. He needed his son, but as the man had said, so did Elrond. They all had duties to manage. He would have to think on this. Perhaps he could start training Avler to take over some of Legolas’ responsibilities, so that the prince could take breaks to go to Imladris.   
He put these thoughts aside for later. Now, what was important was reuniting the two friends. “Go to him, Estel. Put a real smile back on my son’s face.”

Aragorn  
“Estel!”  
Aragorn had barely a second’s warning before he was staggered back a step by an armful of blond elf. Legolas wrapped his legs around Aragorn’s waist and clung to him like a monkey. Aragorn hugged his friend back just as tightly. “I’ve missed you, mellon nin.”  
“Not as much as I’ve missed you.” Legolas’ voice was slightly muffled, given that his face was mashed up against Aragorn’s neck, but neither of them cared. Aragorn peered through strands of blond hair as he slowly walked to the prince’s chambers. For his part, Legolas showed no sign of letting go any time soon.  
When they got to the bed, Aragorn rapidly dislodged Legolas’ hold and threw his friend onto the mattress. The prince had barely caught his breath when Aragorn was on him, tickling him mercilessly.  
Legolas squealed and tried to twist away, but Aragorn was having none of it. The two of them soon became embroiled in an all-out tickle war, which left them both limp and panting for breath, with wide smiles on their faces.   
Aragorn rolled onto his side to face his friend. “I’m sorry it took me so long to get away to visit.”  
“It matters not, Estel. You are here now.”  
A flash of red had him grabbing Legolas’ wrist and pulling the sleeve aside. “Not again, gwador,” he groaned. “I thought you’d stopped.”  
“I had. I just… I missed you. It was only a few times, I promise.”  
Aragorn sighed and examined the cuts. They weren’t as deep as they could have been, at least. The movement had pulled at the skin, causing them to bleed again, but not badly. “Does your father know?”  
“No, it would just make him worry more – you saw how frantic he was the last time. Don’t tell him, Estel, please.”  
“I will not if you don’t want me to, but you have to stop this, Legolas. Saes, it hurts me to see you injure yourself.”  
“I will, I promise.”  
“The next time you feel like doing this, if I’m not with you, you have to send word to me, alright? You know I will never fail to come when you call me.”  
Legolas’ eyes softened. “I know, Estel. Thank you.”  
Over the next few days, they enjoyed themselves thoroughly, doing many of Legolas’ favorite things – archery, riding, picnics and swimming in the lake. Aragorn had been at the palace for a week when Thranduil took him aside, looking vexed.  
“I need to talk to you, Estel.”  
He shared a worried look with Legolas, who shrugged. “Of – of course, hir nin.” Aragorn followed the king to his study, wondering what he’d done wrong.   
Thranduil rounded on him. “What is your secret?”  
“I – what?”  
“I tried for weeks to cheer Legolas up! Nothing I did worked. Then you come here, and you do exactly the same things I did, and he’s suddenly over the moon. You are not always here, and I need to know how to care for my son when you are not. I ask again, what is your secret?”  
Aragorn found himself grinning. “The secret is friendship, hir nin.”  
Thranduil rolled his eyes, apparently not find this a helpful answer. “I think the secret is going to be Avler. I’m training him to take over some of Legolas’ duties. From now on, you and Legolas will alternate – he will come to Imladris when you cannot make it here. I won’t have him getting this upset again.”  
That was so sweet that Aragorn found himself beaming at the king. “I’m sure he’ll appreciate it, hir nin. Can I go tell him?”  
“Yes, go, go.” Thranduil waved him off, and Aragorn hurried back to the dining hall, where Legolas was waiting anxiously.   
“What did he want?”  
“He wanted to know the secret of friendship.”  
“What?”  
Aragorn laughed at his friend’s confused expression. “Never mind. He also told me something, something you’re going to like.”  
“What?”  
“I’ll tell you… if you can beat me to the lake.”  
Without waiting for a response, Aragorn took off running. As he’d expected, Legolas tore after him, yelling curses in between bouts of laughter. Knowing that the elf would soon catch him, Aragorn dashed to the stables, taking both his horse and the prince’s.   
That would get him a scolding, but only after he won the race to the lake. A glance over his shoulder gifted him with a look of utter outrage on Legolas’ face, but the elf’s eyes were sparkling with amusement. Laughing, Aragorn made haste for the lake with an irate prince on his heels.


End file.
